Original Sinners – Self-Titled

The Original Sinners brand of sin is of the wonderfully old-school and mostly innocent variety: This Kansas City band loads the jukebox with quarters, order whatevers cheap, and start telling lies about this or that time you had one too many, or about the lover who busted your heart. You know all the punchlines ahead of time, but on a night like this, thats just the ticket: a version of Chuck Berrys Thirty Days, say, then maybe a cover of Roy Hamiltons Dont Let Go or Fats Dominos My Girl, Josephine. All of it is imminently danceable but takes its sweet time just the same youre going to be here all night, after all and, son of a bitch, Im either drunk or that version of Sen-Say-Shun makes me thirstier than old Freddy Kings ever did. Even the stories you havent heard before sound like the ones you already love. Baby, You Know Me, the singer moans, and the piano player makes you tear up in sympathy. Tell it again, will ya? The Original Sinners play the kind of rock that still proudly sports an & roll tattooed to its butt. Theres not a thing original about these Sinners, but their version of I Got To Learn To Mambo and a pitcher of beer will still get your ass in trouble.